The Alternate Universe Conjecture
by Penstorm
Summary: Sheldon subscribes to the theory of the existence of an infinite amount of parallel universes. This is only one out of the countless number. Rating subject to change.


_I have been playing with this idea for quite a while. I plan on focusing on additions to some episodes, or simple one-shots. I really don't know. If there's an episode in particular you'd like me to play with, let me know.  
_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing and I control no aspect of the show. _

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**Pilot**

"Sharon," the physicist whispered sharply, her fingers gripping the doorjamb as she swooned. "Sharon, get over here. Right now."

Lenore felt the floorboards shift as her roommate approached her from behind, and two pairs of eyes peeked through the door as it creaked slightly ajar.

"What is it?" Sharon queried, a slight annoyance in her voice. Her breath fanned hot against the back of her friend's ear.

"Look." Lenore hissed, gripping Sharon's chin and directing her gaze across the hallway. _"Him." _

Sharon, brow furrowed, focused upon the open door of the apartment across the way, her attention finally being fully garnered.

What her cohort was so fascinated with was a man, plain and simple. He stood, arms folded, in the living room of apartment 4B, observing the movers as they carried in his belongings, packed away in a wide array of cardboard boxes.

His hair was an attractive, sandy blond, cut neatly and incredibly short. His bangs, or rather what would be bangs if he allowed, were spiked expertly with a generous amount of gel. It swooped slightly downward and to his left, and he reached up a hand to smooth out his golden head of hair, revealing a solid bicep to the pairs of curious eyes across the hall.

Lenore emitted a soft sound, indicative of her fiery desire.

"What do you think? _Gorgeous, _isn't he?" she crooned, bravely taking a chance at exposing them and giving the door a push further.

"What do I _think?" _Sharon echoed, glancing momentarily to her friend. "I _think _this man would take objection to our spying on him without his knowledge."

Lenore hushed her fiercely, giving her a slight shove that lead the other physicist to stumble away from the door.

"I...I'm gonna go say something to him," she resolved, nervously fiddling with her glasses.

Lenore Hofstadter wasn't entirely the confident type. Most of her attractions that were this intense occurred during high school and began as simple infatuations. Many of which were unrequited. Actually, now that she reflected on this, it was quite possible that all of them were.

"And what, pray tell—dear Lord, 'pray'. I sound like my father." Sharon mused, shaking her head as she examined the contents of their refrigerator. "Never mind that. What do you plan on saying to him?"

"I don't know, I'll think of something," Lenore replied vaguely, clicking the door shut and leaning her back against the cold metal. "Wh-what do you think?"

"Let's see," Sharon began, selecting a bottle of water from the fridge. "Nameless man, I _yearn _for you...my loins _burn_ for you..." She shook her head again. "No, that may send the wrong message. Perhaps even eliminate _any _chance at coitus."

"We're not going to have coitus," Lenore barked, her Converse sneakers squeaking against the wooden floors as she approached her roommate. "...at least not now."

"Or anytime in the distant, distant future." Sharon responded, unscrewing the cap of the bottle in her hands. Her companion folded her arms with disdain.

"Ya know what? I'll just wing it." Lenore acquiesced at last, turning on her heels and again returning to the door. "What's the worst that could happen, right?"

"You could lose control of your bothersome lactose intolerance, have an atrocious asthma attack—"

"Thank you, Sharon!" Lenore snapped sarcastically, enunciating each of her words. "Way to give me confidence."

"Lenore, I apologize, but I am a woman of reason. When I observe a scenario such as this one, I tend to speak only the truth. In the field of science, we always seek the truth, do we not?" Sharon defended, her comrade not at all appeased by her reasoning.

"Just..." Lenore exhaled shakily, illustrating the extent of her anxiety. "Wait here."

Sharon offered a slight shrug. "Very well, then."

Lenore, rolling her dark eyes, backed toward the door, pinning herself against it briefly before turning the handle and stepping out in the hallway. Not a moment later, Sharon was on her heels.

"Pardon my intrusion," she said, her voice low, "but I just happened to realize that our roommate agreement dictates specifically what I must do in this situation. And I'm afraid I'm obligated to accompany you during this exercise."

"Oh, really, that isn't necessary." Lenore said quickly, her heart falling with disappointment at the sight of the closed door to 4B.

"Nonsense. Who am I to go against the sanctity of such a valued document regarding our friendship?" Sharon insisted, strutting rather confidently into the hallway, taking only a moment to glance back over her shoulder. "Shall we?"

"U-uh..." Lenore stammered, planting a firm hand on her back pocket. _Inhaler. Where are you?_

Sharon beckoned her over. "For goodness sakes." Three knocks. "Sir?" Three knocks. "Sir?"

"Sharon, would you—"

The door swung open, and a gregarious smile greeted them. That _smile. _

Lenore hurriedly scampered to bask in front of the man, who stood rather awkwardly in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" he inquired with a slight chuckle.

Lenore stared—allowed her eyes to wander down every aspect of his chiseled features, from his deep, green eyes to his statuesque yet smooth nose, and at last down to his strong, firm jawline. He sported a scruff of facial hair on his chin, and he stroked his goatee with a brisk motion.

"Miss?"

"Huh? Oh, I-I'm sorry. We're from across the hall," Lenore managed, extending a hand. "I'm Dr. Lenore Hofstadter, this is Dr. Sharon Cooper. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Preston," he responded affably, lightly gripping her hand. "I just moved from Nebraska."

"Oh, Nebraska? This must be quite a change for you, then." the physicist said somewhat sheepishly.

Preston turned his attention to Sharon, offering her a grin. "Nice to meet you, uh...can I call you Sharon, then?"

Sharon darted her eyes to her cohort for a mere moment before finishing her ritual. Three knocks. "Preston." she muttered beneath her breath.

Preston's expression shifted to puzzlement. "Um, yeah. Yep! That's me, alright." A somewhat goofy smile was all it took for Lenore to speak up.

"D-don't mind her, Preston. U-uh, we were just about to watch a little _Doctor Who_, _weren't _we, Sharon?"

"Hm? Oh, yes." her comrade uttered, glancing awkwardly back and forth.

"Would you care to join us, Preston?" Lenore invited warmly, her stomach fluttering with sudden tension.

"Oh, thanks, but I...I'd better finish unpacking. I'm not really that into medical shows." he offered graciously with a shrug, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. Even beneath a layer of fabric, any woman could tell that it was there—solid pectorals, abs that could, frankly, be played like a marimba.

One of the physicists concealed her disapproval well, but the other, less experienced with social etiquette, hadn't developed her poker face so aptly.

"Oh!" Lenore interjected, hastily before Sharon could offer a word of wisdom. "Well, if you happen to change your mind, we're...yeah, just right across the hall..."

"Yeah, hey, maybe we could, y'know, grab a bite to eat or somethin'." Preston offered amicably, lifting his hand in a cordial wave as the two scientists stumbled back into their apartment.

"Y-yes, great. You know where to find us! Right here, apartment 4A." Lenore sang, tapping her finger to their door, pointing out the label. "Mmhm." she hummed, simpering at him a final time before wedging her way through the rapidly closing entrance to the apartment.

She narrowly managed to avoid running distractedly into the door in the midst of her haste and racing string of thoughts.

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_Feedback is _greatly _appreciated!_


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